The Night Rising
by Historyman 14
Summary: With Sombra's turning, the Prince of Darkness ready himself for the late 21th century when a red head catches his eye.


**(I do not own Overwatch, or anything else. Only this story. Enjoy.)**

 _ **Constanța, Romania. 2078. Talon Base/Dracula base.**_

Sombra didn't know what to expect, being a vampire. It definitely wasn't anything she had ever experienced before. Sure, the whole thing was _arrugar_ for her at the very start, but after that, she found a new 'unlife' with the Prince of Darkness quickly satisfied. Yes, some of the restrictions of being a vampire (the whole drinking blood business, sleeping in a coffin with soil from your home, not going off in the sun for too long, the cross and holy ground) were unique. She had one - _one_ \- bad experience with a church when it had lit up in an inferno of blue and orange flames, lapping eagerly at the house of worship. Podría haber salido mejor. But then came all the benefits of Vampirism. Shapeshifting, super strength, speed and endurance, black magic, flight, the works. And she was sure this was only the tip of the iceberg.

In the time before vampirism, Sombra wished that she was omnic - metal and circuits. No need to worry about sleeping or eating, or getting sick. No worries about other functions. Just metal and circuits. She would be a part of the system she enjoyed to hack and play like a toy.

But vampirism? This was was far better than that.

She leaned back and sighed, clearly enjoying her blood fusion espresso, as she scanned the information streams. After Craiova, she, Dracula, and the other vampires were laying low and gave Talon a wide berth. And it was so much fun seeing Talon on edge, being left in the dark of the events in Romania, more so with her 'bloodsuckers' message before going dark. Oh sure, Gabe tried looking for her, but there was no data for Reaper. Even tired at her little den in Castillo. Sombra had never seen Reaper, or Talon agents, running faster than before when they tripped all her little traps. It was a shame but she got everything of value out.

As for Dracula, he was a mystery wrapped in an enigma, buried inside a Chinese puzzle box. He always kept to himself, to the shadows. For someone who been undead since the 15th century and trapped in a tomb since the 1890s, he was good at playing catch up in the late 21th century. His aura could be felt miles away, but he was respectful and polite to her, and the other vampires around them.

Whatever he was planning next, she was _preparado_.

XXX.

The night boiled around him in silence, a glass of scarlet sitting beside him, as the fire roared like a mouse. Manilla folders sat all around the man as he busied himself with reading over Sombra's latest batch of knowledge and information of the world around him, of the so call 'heroes'. The world had changed since the 1890s and he, the great, the powerful, could not be caught off guard.  
 _  
"The more things change, the more they are the same."_ He thought within the former Talon commander's office. In his immortal life, he has grown use to radical changes of the world, thanks in part to human greed and savagery. He had seen empires and kingdoms rise and fall, and glory won and lost in a blink of an eye.

In the future, in the years since he had been trapped in that tomb, there was a group called "Overwatch". They were a band of 'heroes' who once saved the world from 'Omnics'. They were rotted to the core and fell in shame, and branded by the outside world as villains. Only a year now have they had been recalled by the world. On the other side was Talon, a dark mirror of Overwatch in which Sombra was using as a puppet.

He could only laugh.

They were children to someone like him. But they were dangerous, the champions of Overwatch and Talon. He could compare them to the figures of the One Thousand and One Nights he read while a hostage in Eğrigöz. Each was fantastic and powerful in their own ways. Sombra herself was among them, he could not fault her skills, or her opportunist nature.

He slid one file to Lena Oxton. A file of a woman who had been known as Tracer of Overwatch. For someone who could manipulate time and with her age, she would most certainly be a fine 'champion', willing or not. Or she would die, impaled for all to see, and his empire be built over her nameless grave, as would all others who would dare stand against his kingdom.

He looked to a picture, and for one moment, he could feel his heart beat within his chest as he saw her. _Her._ His glass shattered, but he did not notice, nor could he care.

XXX.

 _"Who is she?..."_ Vlad all but demanded as Sombra fell from her seat in shock. One second, she was enjoying blood Espresso, next the whole base rocked and she found old Dracula hovering over her, demanding answers.

"Her? Oh, that's Tracer's pequeño amor. Here." With her gloves, she pull up a holofile of Emily Theobold. The Count became enamored at once. The girl...how she bare the loveliness of his Elizabeth. The only who had his unbeating heart in his many years.

 _"At last...my beloved will live again. And yet something else to thank Oxton's taste in woman."_ The Count collected himself, turning to Sombra.

"I what the exact time and location of her at all times. I what every last detail of her. But first Colomar...I haven't been to Venice in such a long time. Care to join me? I thought I pay your 'friends' in a Talon a visit and a 'offer'.

"Way ahead of it, boss."


End file.
